No Sympathy for the Devil
by malintencionado
Summary: In the Sandman series the Devil was portrayed as a very colorful and complex character. What if we delved deeper into his story? Expect more to come.


Disclaimer: All characters are the creation of Neil Gaiman and copyrighted to Vertigo/DC Comics.   
Comments: Thank you for reading my fanfic. I hope you will find it entertaining. I have tried to remain as true to the series as possible while still leaving room for myself for my own creativity. I apologize for any innacuracies ahead of time. Please feel free to comment on my story. Thanks again :)  
  
  
  
No Sympathy for the Devil  
fanfiction by  
malintencionado  
  
Part I  
  
The Morningstar sighed as he played his piano. "You're the D-E-V-um-I-L," she had said. The tone in her voice suggested her fear of him and his trickery, and yet to him, those days were long over. Perhaps she believed her brother's dismal fate somehow to be his fault and that he could do something to one of their kind of such magnitude again. But, the Dreamy one had sealed his fate long ago, on his own blind whim. Alas, before many would see the truth (or perhaps some would never,) they were likely to proclaim that "the devil had made him do it."   
  
And this is why the one who sat here attempting to improvise a new jazz number for his own relaxation, sighed deeply in frustration. He had tried to start anew, but he was being associated with the same old things, most of them things he had never been to blame for in human history in the first place. Of course, the Endless blamed him for much also. He abrubtly discontinued the composition of his new song and banged random notes in displeasure, then stopped.   
"Darling?" called the devil, "if you bring me a cup of tea the way I like it, and you know how I hate to trouble you to do these things its just that I'm in a bit of a mood, I will play you a special tune that I think you might enjoy...and I know you love the way I tickle the ivories." He spoke with a sly and hypnotic tone.   
  
"Rrrhow, Rrrhusifrr, rhy rhruff zhee rhay rrhoo shfeek froo ree."   
  
The truth was, although he would never admit it to anyone (except perhaps his beloved, had he had a few drinks,) he had wondered if he had done the right thing, at one point, breifly.   
But, no. He had no quarrels with the rest of the Endless at the time. His quarrel was with Dream. Of course, in a way it had been pure luck that...   
  
"Thank you, darling." The dark prince now sipped his tea and prepared a special tune for his beloved.   
  
***   
  
"...Del was probably one of your more lonely siblings. She looked up to your predecessor quite a bit, it just wasn't obvious to everyone...perhaps not even to herself."   
  
"Hmmm...I have never had a kid sister before..."   
  
"Yeah...well...no shit Daniel...sorry...Dream. You're not any older than that drooling kid you were a few weeks ago," Mathew said.   
  
The young Dream frowned, "Shall we again take time to consider the facets of this emerald I wear about my neck, Mathew?"   
  
"Uhhh...no. That's ok, boss. I think that stuff has been giving me enough of a headache, lately."   
  
Lucien walked the halls of the castle to the throne room, the very center of dreaming, with a very important new peice of literature in his hand. There were new books showing up all the time in the castle's library, the largest in existence, but no book written by the mind of anyone who dreams was any less significant than any other. From Adam and Eve to the most eloquent speaker of our time, no book was considered more important than yours. That is, until now, Lucien wondered.  
  
"Yes, Lucien? Can I help you?" said Dream.  
  
"Normally I wouldn't bother you with such a thing, sir, but it appears we have a rather interesting new guest in our library." He pointed to a huge tome in his arm with strange and fantastic carvings on its stone cover. It's portrayals of tortured lives and seemingly endless murals of chaos were repulsive and depressing but not without an equal amount of beauty and happiness. It was woven together as if the two co-existed and an ancient understanding of how this was (of how the two co-existed and worked in the same universe was possible,) only the artist knew.  
  
"Do new books not appear all the time?" the Dream King frowned.  
  
"Yes, yes it does, but I think you will find the author of this book of special interest."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*TO BE CONTINUED* 


End file.
